


Child of Flower and Wind

by SilberFelx



Series: The Legacy Of The Crimson Eagle [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt, follow-up to a drabble from yesterday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23427922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilberFelx/pseuds/SilberFelx
Summary: It seems some people were never meant for happiness.A child between the leaders of two countries at war was on the top of that list.Claude tries to take care of the child his beloved had left behind.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan
Series: The Legacy Of The Crimson Eagle [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685275
Comments: 28
Kudos: 95





	1. Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> With how amazing the feedback on the silly little drabble was, I couldn't stop myself.
> 
> If this goes even more out of control, Part 3 of this series will probably be the next generation of pupils at Garreg Mach.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude is trying his best, really.

Sometimes Claude would prefer the danger of the battlefield over putting up with his duties, however important they might be.

But while he normally could allow him to act on these impulses, this was far more important. Yes, his classmates were fighting an underground organization capable of destroying forts called impregnable with ease and they really needed any manpower they could get, but caring for his own child had priority to Claude, especially being the one who had killed the boy’s mother.

The entire situation was just one big mess. Every day, every hour, every second of Claude’s life was filled with regret.

It was bad enough that he had had to kill the woman he loved to win the war, only to realize it wasn’t even over and there were foes laying hidden beneath the surface. But to also find out his love had created a secret child cursed to bear a heavy fate from the day of their birth?

Another quiet curse escaped him. The boy didn’t know him and the opposite was true as well, but he could feel that it was his son and that he truly did care about him. But how could he possibly approach him?

Even though he was anything but religious, he felt himself praying to Edelgard for help. Sothis knows he needed it. The boy – damn it, he didn’t even know his son’s name – hadn’t eaten since his mother’s death and refused to let anyone into his room.

Taking yet another deep breath, he knocked on the door.

“Hey, kiddo? I brought you some lunch.”

Silence, except for a few ragged breaths and a sniffle. Claude felt his stomach turn and his heart twisted uncomfortably. Biting his lip, he waited a little bit longer, and today, it finally happened – small, slow, and unsteady footsteps made their way to the door. The knob turned and the door opened a little, giving way to the head of the boy Claude could see so much of himself and his love in. Bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed hard, trying not to show anything that might upset his child.

“Hey”, he got out. That was about it. His silver tongue failed him as he just nervously looked at the little one eyeing him. Not for long, as his reddened eyes then fell on the tray carrying a teacup of freshly brewed Bergamot tea as well as a small meal Claude remembered Edelgard had often eaten. It was more of a dessert, really, as she had the most impressive sweet tooth he had ever known, right after Lysithea of course.

Either way, recognition flashed in the boy’s eyes for a moment, so he probably knew what this was. Still, he didn’t move yet. As hungry as he seemed, suspicion held him back.

“You can go ahead”, Claude tried. At no reaction being visible, he added “I promise it’s not poisoned or anything.”

That made his son look up at him, a single eyebrow raised.

“Uncle Hubert said not to trust people”, he said.

Claude wanted to laugh. A loud, throaty, desperate, disgusting noise, anything to get the sour and metallic taste out of his mouth, to keep his mind of the fact that Hubert of all people had been a better father figure to the young child than his own godessdamn father.

Instead, he simply kept up his mask and smiled – or tried to, at least – and got on his knees, gaze leveling with his child.

“Look, I promise I won’t hurt you or anything.” He took a sip and a bite to prove it wasn’t poisoned.

That apparently finally won him over and he pulled the tray into his room, not closing the door behind him. After a moment of hesitation Claude entered, looking around the room his son hat shut himself in. He saw that some of the furniture had deep bitemarks, whether from frustration or hunger, he didn’t know.

Judging by the surprise on the boy’s face as he looked up from the food he was wolfing down, he hadn’t left the door open on purpose, but simply forgot to close it. Well, too late now; Claude simply leaving again wouldn’t make this any easier.

Keeping a watchful eye on Claude, he kept eating, while Claude simply kept standing in place, as to not unsettle the kid. Finally, when the entire portion had vanished into his small belly, he stood up on his chair to seem taller, addressing his father with an aura of regality, but Claude could feel hesitation and fear coming from him as well. No surprise there; with how he looked, he probably had been kept a secret to most and told to not go out on his own or let anyone see him. He felt bad for him.

“If you are here to take my life, then make it q-quick.” His confidence at the start quickly broke down. “I-I’m the proud child of Emp- Empress…” His lip quivered and tears started falling from his already uncomfortably red eyes as he slumped down on the chair he was standing on. Claude quickly made his way over, heart hurting even more when the boy flinched at him closing in so fast. Awkwardly, he put his arms around the child, comforting him to the best of his abilities, which admittedly weren’t his most honed skills.

Still, he held his child tightly, feeling a bit of warmth in his stomach at fully realizing that this was his own flesh and blood, the last tangible memory left from his beloved and his child. As guilty as he felt, this realization made everything hurt a bit less. He slowly stroked his hair and tried soothing him with a calm voice, as the boy kept sobbing “El” into his clothes.

\------------------------------------------------------

A while later the two were sitting in awkward silence, the boy having backed up from him again.

“What is your name?”, Claude finally managed to ask. The boy frowned at the question.

“I don’t like my name”, he stated. “Mama El always looked so tired and sad when she said it.” Claude quirked an eyebrow, not sure what that meant.

“She said it was the name of the person she truly loved”, the boy continued. “And she said they couldn’t live together even though they loved each other. How stupid is that? I don’t get grown-ups.”

Claude felt a sinking feeling in his stomach at the small spark of anger, probably directed at him (and rightly so).

The boy sighed wearily. “My name is Khalid.”


	2. Bloodlines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ancient army requires immediate attention. Claude doesn't want to leave his child behind on his own.

The situation just wouldn’t get any better, would it?

Luckily, Teach was able to defeat the Agarthans without Claude well enough, but now a small group with incredible power forced their way through Fódlan, targeting Garreg Mach. This called for all the help they could get, especially Claude with his tactical skills and his Heroes’ Relic.

But even the so-called Master Tactician had yet to outwit life itself.

Khalid was looking up at him. The boy had luckily regained some of his strength and stopped starving himself, but that didn’t mean he was very happy with his situation. And even though he would probably never admit it, his eyes were still bloodshot from crying.

It was understandable, really. After all, the boy had only been about five years old when he lost all the family he had ever known.

So how could Claude possibly leave the boy alone? He was his son, after all; even though he didn’t see him as a father figure.

At least Hilda was having fun. The boy’s eyes were more and more clearly begging to be released from the grasp of the pink-haired woman, who was trying to ‘make him look presentable’, as she had called it. Rude.

Byleth was watching with a hint of amusement on their face, though they were clearly still focused on figuring out this issue, sitting at the war table with all the others.

After fighting a war together, all his allies were friends he was able to trust (ironic, though he guessed he had to thank Edelgard for making him open up like this); so, all of his classmates and the professor knew of the child. Claude hadn’t said anything about his origins, but looking at the spark of recognition in Byleth’s face, he knew they knew of Edelgard’s long gone hair color. The others were mostly speculating, except for Lysithea, but he was pretty sure their doubts were minimal. Hilda had spread rumors about his crush on the princess during their academy time after all.

His lips curled into a small sad smile. Damn it, he missed her so badly. Worse even than before the fight, as he had held onto a foolish hope they could go back to being happy again.

That really hadn’t been like him, and it only made the crumbling of that dream all the more painful.

He sighed.

“So, anyone got any good ideas?”

“I could always stay behind to watch him”, Hilda immediately replied.

“Hilda.” Byleth’s tone was devoid of emotion and they shot the girl an icy glare. She shivered in response, but tried to play it off with a playful shrug.

“It was worth a shot.”

The professor never had been one for sighing, but if they had been, Claude was pretty sure they’d let out a pretty loud one right now.

“We need you on the frontlines, just like we need everyone else. Of course, the ones with a Heroes’ Relic at their command, but looking at the enemies’ strength…” They looked at the reports they had gotten from all over the place and their lips thinned.

“Believe me, Teach; if I was able to give someone else my Crest alongside Failnaught, I’d happily do it right now. But since that option isn’t open to us, we gotta figure out something else.” He tapped his beard in thought.

“Why don’t we just let Flayn take care of him? I’m sure Seteth would be happy to have her off the battlefield”, Leonie said. Claude shook his head.

“I’m sure Flayn wouldn’t object either, but this would mean exposing Khalid’s existence to the members of the Church, and I’d rather wait on that.”

Khalid nodded slightly, still far too insecure to say anything at the intimidating pressure of a war conference, which only got a frustrated “Don’t move!” out of Hilda. Claude groaned a little, feeling a headache developing. Right now, he needed to relax with some Almyran Pine Needle Tea to get his thoughts back into order. It had helped him with the operation of transporting his son to Garreg Mach without any outsider noticing, so it would surely help now as well. Thankfully, Byleth picked up on Claude’s signal.

“This will be enough for now”, they stated. “Everyone is dismissed.”

Chairs scraped against the ground and Claude received sympathetic comments as well as a pat on the back from Raphael that nearly made him fall on the ground. Khalid was giggling lightly, finally released from Hilda’s clutches. His father tried a smile.

“Hey, kiddo. You wanna grab a bite to eat?”

“Wait a second, Claude.”

He looked up and saw Byleth approaching him. Grabbing his son’s hand, he raised an eyebrow.

“Here to invite me and Khalid to tea, Teach?” He emphasized the tea in his professor’s nickname and put on his usual, easy-going smile. His answer came in the shaking of a head.

“Actually, I’m here to do something else with you. Trust me, this is important.” They glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone in the room and nobody was spying on them. The gears in Claude’s head started to turn. What could be this important?

“It’s about Khalid’s Crest.”

Oh.

He should’ve guessed that one was coming.

Without anymore discussion, Claude nodded. He knew how highly Crests were valued, and how they were used to identify people. If Khalid bore a Crest of Seiros, people would spread rumors about him being a bastard child to the Hresvelg family, but at the same time the only heir in existence.

They weren’t wrong, but Claude wanted to keep his last physical memory of Edelgard close. His son.

And so, they ended up in Hanneman’s office. Byleth had gone through the second floor of the monastery to make sure it was empty before leading Claude and Khalid inside. They had seen this room many times before, so they knew the simplest method of determining a Crest would be to simply use the device they had used at the start of the school year. It felt like that was ages ago.

“You simply hold your hand over it”, Byleth told Khalid. The boy nodded, still a bit intimidated by the former mercenary’s somewhat cold exterior, even though they had been getting warmer over the years.

Slowly, the tiny hands reached out for the device, and a picture started forming.

Claude let out a heavy swear in Almyran, simultaneously apologizing to Edelgard and thanking the Goddess he hadn’t taught Khalid, who was looking at them feeling like he had done something wrong, the language yet.

The child bore the Crest of Flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm so happy this many people are reading this, I was actually pretty scared of this story completely falling flat due to my limited time with the Deer and English not being my first language.
> 
> If you did enjoy it, leave a comment and I'll see you next chapter!


	3. Peaceful Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reminiscing of better days.

In hindsight, even their first meeting had been something special.

Back then, Claude had been a different person; trusting people wasn't something he allowed himself to do, and all of the goals he set himself he wanted to reach on his own.

Honestly, he had been a bit naive, even if he didn't like admitting it.

And then the first day at Garreg Mach came.

His mask was already well-trained by that time, but still not quite as perfect as the one Edelgard had been wearing. He didn't realize it yet.

Trying to make himself look overly lax, he deliberately arrived a bit late to the meeting with Lady Rhea, where the house leaders got their capes and were briefed on their duties. Smiling his usual smile, he had exited the carriage and immediately scanned the other two people standing there next to a church guard; while Dimitri was looking a bit nervous, whether it was because of his late arrival or the coming meeting, he still had a genuine, friendly smile on his face. Claude didn't believe the smile at first, but he quickly learned Dimitri was honest with his emotions most of the time. Anger was the only thing he always quickly supressed.

On the other hand, there was Edelgard. At first glance, Claude wanted to laugh at how tiny she was next to the prince even while wearing heels, but at the second, he stopped himself. Not only because she had directed an icy glare at him as though she had felt the laugh coming, though her aura of superiority certainly played a role, but also because... well, she was just damn beautiful. Nothing against the prince, he certainly had his own charms, but his noodle hair couldn't compare to the fine silver reminding him of the stars he so often talked to.

At that moment, he had told himself to stop drooling over her like a horny teenager (though, to be fair, they all still were teens) and concentrate on the matter at hand - whatever that was. Additionally, he decided to bring her down from her high disposition, just to satisfy a personal urge.

Luckily, before he could make a fool out of himself, Seteth arrived at the main gate, greeting the gatekeeper before directing his attention towards the three of them.

"Welcome to the Officer's Academy at Garreg Mach. My name is Seteth and I am the advisor of Lady Rhea, the archbishop." Yadda yadda yadda. His speech was so long Claude was sure his ears would've fallen off if he had listened, so he preserved that energy for the actual meeting.

Finally, he came to a close, and while Edelgard's face was as unreadable as before, Dimitri was visibly exhausted, even though he tried being polite and not showing it.

That was the point Claude became even more interested in Edelgard. While he certainly didn't know that much about social interaction, not being able to read her gaze was something that really bugged him. So when Seteth turned and led them to the audience hall, he approached her.

"Heya, your Highness." He gave a mock bow. "You're the imperial princess, right? Nice to meet you." He grinned as charmingly as he could, but she simply looked at him and studied him from head to toe and back. Then, she opened her mouth.

Without warning, Claude could feel something warm against his skin. Drops of something. He slowly touched the spots with his hand, and when he looked down at his fingertips, they were bloodied.

He blinked.

Suddenly, he was wearing the traditional clothes of royal Almyran wyvern masters, Failnaught in hand. His gaze went back up.

There she stood, the Empress of Adrestia. Mouth open in a silent curse, an arrow lodged in her throat, her Heroes' Relic's light flickering ominously.

Trembling, he held out his hand to her. She looked at him with nothing but pure hatred in her eyes.

Then, Freikugel crushed her skull, Blutgang tore off her left arm, a round of arrows from the Inexhaustible pierced her skin and a spell strengthened by Thyrsus made her legs burst apart. Even still, with a final swing, she swung Aymr, and Claude could feel his head leaving his body. The world turned upside down and a cruel smile made it's way onto his beloved's face.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Claude shot up in his bed, desperately gasping for air and hands clinging to his throat as though he tried to keep his head from falling off. Leaning over the edge of his bed, bile escaped him, and he felt the burning sensation of his stomach returning his food to the surface. His breath escaped him and he kept coughing up more pieces of dinner, the world turning faster and faster as a splitting headache began forming, nausea hitting him in giant waves, everything turning dark-

"Claude?"

Someone had whispered his name, and he immediately clung to this. He need something to ground himself and escape from the hell he was in.

Come on. Slow breaths.

After a while of calming himself, he managed to look to the door, where Byleth stood. Their face looked mildly worried, which meant they were scared to death.

Claude gave a weak chuckle. "Sorry, Teach. Just had a nightmare."

"I got that part", they replied. "You were talking in your sleep. About Edelgard."

Their attentive green eyes scanned him. "You don't usually talk in your sleep, so it must've been something special."

He sighed. "You can say that again." He coughed again, but there was nothing left in his stomach. "I dreamt of our first meeting."

Byleth lifted an eyebrow. "I wasn't around that day, right?"

"Exactly. It's pretty much the only time I remember where I was at Garreg Mach without you as our teacher."

"Were you already fascinated with Edelgard back then?"

With others, this might've been a teasing comment, but Byleth was just genuinely curious.

Claude hesitated. "I did realize there was something about her that drew me in, but it just evolved even more over time."

They simply hummed, thinking about his statement.

"And, well, in the end everything just kinda... clicked. But it was too late already." He chuckled humorlessly. "Of all the times, it was the evening before the mission in the Holy Tomb. I..." He grit his teeth. "I just miss her so much, dammit."

Byleth awkwardly patted his back.

"And then we finally see each other again and we have to kill each other... And then I find out we have a son, a son that I never got the chance to see before now, and I've just been no father to him, even Hubert was more of a family, and I've killed all the family he has ever known, and I've made him unhappy yet again-"

"What?"

Claude's head shot around to see Khalid staring at him wide-eyed. It was then that Claude realized just how loud he had been while ranting and he wanted to curse yet again. Byleth just fixated him with an expression that seemed... sad? He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"No", Khalid whispered. "No. No, no, no, no."

Claude looked to his teacher for help as his son's voice rose, but they could only look back helpless.

"You're not my dad", the boy growled, slowly getting out of bed. "You can't be. You're a liar."

The longer he went on, the more violently he spat the words at him.

"You're a cruel murderer!" he screamed. "I hate you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! As usual, please leave a comment with feedback and I'll hopefully see you soon!


	4. Your Kind Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories haunt people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/OBWpzvJGTz4

"Oh, that's just great. Absolutely amazing."

Claude swore under his breath as he made his way through Garreg Mach. Following Khalid's realization of Claude being his father, the boy stormed out of the room, and Claude was anything but in the right state to do something about it. Teach had told him to rest, which proved to be very difficult, so now he was walking through the monastery on shaky legs and feeling like he'd fall asleep walking any second now.

He was used to not sleeping for a while, however, the sleepless nights were piling up more and more, so even with his experience, staying awake proved to be a task as daunting as finding a small boy in this huge area. Of course, the first thing Claude had done was ask the guards about a kid coming through, and they had told him that they hadn't seen any that day. Claude felt stupid the next moment; Khalid was still so small and young, the boy would never have managed to make his way to the front gate that quickly.

What held him back in traveling a large distance aided him in hiding though, and even with the trained eyes of a wyvern-riding archer, Claude could not find his son for the life of him.

Think, he told himself, think. Where would Khalid hide?

Once again, the sudden realization that he didn't know anything about his own damn son sent a shiver down Claude's back.

He let himself fall onto a bench by the students' quarters, still wrecking his brain for any ideas. It was early in the morning, too; so he wasn't about to wake up any of his classmates to help him search. If he wanted to show Khalid he cared, he would need to do this alone.

So he thought to first search the places he or Edelgard would visit in his position.

He made his way to his love's room, only to find it in its usual state: the door was broken down, and when Claude had come back here the first time after almost five years, it had hurt his heart to see the room in a state of utter disarray. He could hardly blame the Knights of Seiros for searching this room for anything potentially dangerous or useful, and after what had happened to Rhea in the battle for Garreg Mach, some of them had certainly vented their anger here..

Still, Claude had been angry and almost tore out part of his outfit from gripping it too hard, while he tried concentrating on carefully tidying the room so many of his happiest memories clung to. He remembers the first time he had entered; back then he hadn't nearly figured out Edelgard yet, so he took it as a simple gesture of friendliness, but now he knew just how much it meant for her to allow someone to enter her safe space. They had chatted about all kinds of topics over tea here. From light conversation about their classmates and the duties of a house leaders to heavy discussions on politics, religion and the ties between the two.

Drawing an unsteady breath, he remembers looking into those beautiful eyes of hers, sparkling with color and a flame that made him feel welcome - something that told him he belonged and he was home. They were here when they'd laughed together and when they'd cried. This was the room where their emotions were not hidden anymore, the room where their walls came down and they could truly look at each other, beyond the people known as the princess and the schemer, and here they could just be Edelgard and Claude when nobody else allowed them to be.

He took a few slow steps towards her desk before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the picture she had drawn for him. It was a beautiful thing; when he'd look in the mirror and compare it to the piece of art, her drawing always seemed to be just a bit softer. The eyes not as piercing, edges not as sharp, and beyond the narcissistic facade he had built, Claude truly believed himself to be beautiful through her eyes. He had gotten so lucky, yet life would not let him have it.

Her touch still lingers in his mind, too - the scarred, strong hands so gentle in this time of peace; as skilled as they were in battle, as clumsy they were in love, but he would not have it any other way. She had looked at him searching for something, looking almost scared, not confident in this body she deemed unlovable, yet his eyes held whatever she was looking for, as her gaze relaxed and worry was replaced by something that made his heart soar, made him want to hold her and caress her, until she knew she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. And so the two had locked lips and sank into a world that was much more beautiful than this one, no war, no conflict, only the both of them and their affection.

Just on the eve of war, they had finally reached their highest high; as she bared herself before him, he could not help but cry, cry tears of joy, joy about him being so lucky as to find someone like him in this place, the center of all that he had suffered from, just like she had. And when they connected, he found himself feeling so different from what he had expected. As much as his body had told him how amazing this was, his very soul was so much louder in shouting out the pleasure he had found, and his mind was filled with ecstasy.

The next day, it all had shattered.

With a sigh, Claude wrenched himself free of those memories. He still needed to find his son.

When he lifted his head, he noticed that he was right in feeling something was off about the room. Where he looked used to be a picture of Edelgard, originally used as a target for throwing knifes before he had forbidden the knights from entering this room and pulling all the weapons from the drawing.

Now it was gone. Khalid must have been here.

As Claude made his way across the gardens, he finally picked up a sound that could possibly help him. It came from the classroom of the Black Eagles; he had already looked there once, but apparently his son hid in there when he was elsewhere.

Carefully, he peeked inside the room, to see the child hugging the missing picture and crying softly. He deflated a bit, took a breath and knocked on the door when he entered. Khalid shot up and whirled in his direction, clearly scared, before giving him a death glare that reminded him way too much of Khalid's mother. However, he couldn't let that deter him.

"Hey, kiddo", he greeted, slowly making his way over. Claude noticed his son subtly inching away from him, so he stopped and kneeled down.

"I'm not going to hurt you, don't worry", he said, trying and failing a smile. "I know you probably don't care about me or even despise me, but I want you to know that I do care about you."

Khalid sniffled, but didn't waver. Claude bit his lip in frustration, though that frustration was not directed at the boy, but at himself. He usually was such a smooth talker, why was his silver tongue failing him now of all times?!

He sighed.

"Look, I get if you don't want to talk to me, but at least follow me for a moment so you can get back into a warm room. You don't even have to stay in mine, I'm sure Marianne would be happy to-"

"Claude?"

Now it was Claude's turn to quickly turn around, shielding his son from the voice's view with his body.

In the doorway stood Cyril.

"Er, hey, Cyril!" Claude greeted. "Fancy meeting you here! Why are you here anyway?"

Cyril lifted an eyebrow, slightly moving his head to catch sight of whoever was behind him, but quickly realizing it was no use.

"That's what I wanted to ask you", he finally replied. "I thought you were gone already."

Claude's heart sank.

Please don't let this be happening, he though.

"Gone where?"

He feared the answer.

Cyril looked at him like he was stupid.

"Well, all the others have left to fight Nemesis."


	5. Battle For A New Dawn

Claude's thoughts went haywire.

While Cyril was whispering something along the lines of 'was I supposed to keep that secret?' to himself, he tried forming a plan in his head that would keep Khalid safe as well as allow him to come to the aid of his friends.

He came up blank.

Damn it, brain, now is not the time to be malfunctioning, he swore in his head, but he knew there were no good options. So he had to weigh the ones he actually had.

Either destroy the potential of developing a healthy relationship with his son yet again and expose his existence to the church, or leave his friends to die against the most powerful threat in a thousand years that would destroy all of Fódlan after?

The answer was clear, but that didn't mean he liked it. He had always hoped for a perfect way out, but war never allowed for such things, so he had to grit his teeth and do what was necessary.

And he'd do it again.

Silently praying to a goddess he didn't believe in to make his son not hate him even more for this, he turned to him.

"Khalid, I need to go. My friends need me, and I don't want to lose them. I want-" he took a deep breath and got a little closer to whisper to him "-I want to protect the future your mother tried to reach."

At the mention of Edelgard, the boy's eyes filled with scorn and grief, but as much as he wanted to, Claude couldn't linger on it. So he turned to the very confused looking Cyril.

"I need you to do me a huge favor, Cyril. I'm not joking this time."

"Yeah, I got that part", he simply replied. Claude nodded.

"Watch over him - Khalid. He's..." He struggled calling himself the boy's father. "He's important to me. And if you can, don't tell anyone, especially not Rhea, that he exists. I can't tell you why, just trust me on this."

No time to waste. Not waiting for an answer, he rushed out of the room, making his way to the stables, and sharply whistled, at which his trusty wyvern broke through multiple layers of woods and quickly let him get on before flying off. Seteth would scold him for the damage done later, but that was hardly of importance right now. Signaling his wyvern to go as fast as possible without immediately tiring out, he silently uttered another prayer, this time to Edelgard to watch over him.

\-----------------------------------------------------

The battlefield was easy to find. Loud explosions of magic and the ominous orange glow of the many relics gave away that what was happening here was not just an ordinary fight, but a final battle that would make its way into all history books.

Of course, only if they were to survive.

At the far end of the swamp they were fighting on he could see Byleth's relic extending skywards, preparing to unleash a mighty strike said to be capable of cleaving mountains in two. However, just a bit further, another weapon extended just like it; darker, feeling even more sinister than the weapons made out of the slaughtered victims of a genocide, but otherwise looking the same. He wanted to go there, but first, he had to check up on the others to see if they needed help.

The one nearest to him was Linhardt, so Claude decided to pester him with questions about the situation.

"It's not good", Linhardt replied. "This artificial swamp, while fascinating, is quickly draining our stamina, while the enemy seemingly gets strengthened by it. The source is probably one of the magic users. I've been trying to locate them, but I have to stay back to safely heal from afar. Some are out of my range, but Marianne is with those, so I hope they can pull through. Still, I don't know how much longer we can last."

Claude quickly thought about what he had just heard.

"Are you scared of heights?", he then asked. Linhardt slightly tilted his head.

"No, why?"

\------------------------------------------------

"Can you locate them from here?"

"Claude, I would, if you weren't moving your wyvern around so much."

"Well excuuuse me for dodging deadly arrows."

He quickly pulled out Failnaught and fired three shots, one of them finally wounding the ballista user mortally. They slumped over and Claude let his wyvern rest a bit in midair.

Linhardt sighed.

"I can feel everyone, so luckily nobody is dead yet. I'm going to apply healing to those who desperately need it first, and then I'll look for the source."

Claude nodded, but he was feeling anxious, fiddling with the weapon in his hand. Nervously, he watched the Sword of the Creator and its replica clash in the distance, sparks flying like fireworks. He had to concentrate on something, so he looked around for any targets he could kill without drawing all the attention towards him. He found a few, and luckily, just after he had run out, Linhardt sighed again and signaled him to fly in the direction of the far end of a bridge, where Claude could see Lorenz fighting, still trying to preserve his noble aura as he flung magic and jabbed his lance into throats.

There was a wyvern coming dangerously close to him. Making his mount shoot forward, Claude pressed himself against the scales to not get irritated too much by the wind lashing into his face, nocking another arrow into Failnaught and firing it, the Relic-enhanced projectile thrusting itself into a small opening at the enemy wyvern's neck, making it drop out of the sky and crush its rider under its heavy body.

Claude breathed and continued approaching Lorenz; Linhardt now started shooting out a few minor attack spells, giving the purple-haired noble the opportunity to finish them off. Only a gremory was left standing, presumably the spellcaster causing the terrain to be this swamp of hopeless death.

When Lorenz looked at him, Claude found that he wasn't surprised in the least and simply nodded like he expected him to be here a while ago. He nodded back, taking aim at the sorceress.

But just as he was about to release the arrow, something heavy crashed against his wyvern, sending the two riders and the mount tumbling downwards, Claude and Linhardt barely managing to jump off as the trusty friend of the Almyran prince impacted on the ground with an ugly sound that meant some bones had been broken. He cursed and looked up to see the wyvern rider they had just defeated flying over them, something akin to a cocky grin spreading across the face that had been crushed mere moments ago.

This swamp needed to go, fast.

"Linhardt, you concentrate on healing Lorenz, my wyvern, and me! Lorenz, take out the gremory! I'll keep this asshole busy!"

Shouting out plans to his allies, his friends, felt natural, and Claude finally felt he was useful again after only bringing grief to his son. Soon, he fell into his familiar pattern; keep updating the plan according to the situation, dodge an enemy attack, retaliate using the opening they left, and when Lorenz finally managed to put his lance through the enemy by hiding in the dust of a magical explosion and surprising his foe, Claude's arrow found its goal and lodged itself firmly into the throat of his opponent. The swamp dried out and there was no healing aid to the wyvern rider when all of his bones snapped at the impact against the cold hard stone.

"It's too early for me to die", Claude breathed. "I still have a promise to Edelgard I need to fulfill."

Just at that moment, a blood-curdling scream rang out over the wide field. Linhardt froze.

"One of our presences vanished", he stiffly stated. "I can't feel them anymore."


	6. The End Of A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing gets better.

Claude wasn't used to running this much.

Left without his wyvern, he dashed around enemies and leapt over their weapons without giving much attention to them. He needed to find the person who fell, and he needed to find them fast.

All he knew was that they had been near Nemesis before their flame died out, so he used the loud sounds of Teach and the crusty old dastard fighting as orientation. His sides burned and his brain was in disarray, but right now, he did not, he could not care, and instinctively weaved through the enemy lines to reach his goal.

From the corner of his eyes he could see his friends finally getting the upper hand; though heavily breathing and bleeding, Leonie shot down a Pegasus Knight with a replica of the Aegis Shield, while Raphael was pummeling some cavalry into the ground. Even Marianne got involved and tore through her foe with a ferocity reminding him of Dimitri in a way, her Crest lighting up the battlefield as Blutgang cut through her opponent's throat.

He could see Byleth and Nemesis now, but they were locked in a stalemate, which sent shivers down Claude's back. He knew how strong their professor was, but they couldn't get more than a few attacks in, all of which uselessly bounced off of the cruel king's corpse.

Then, he saw her.

Lysithea was lying there, blood pooling around her, her white hair dyed red and her pale skin a disgusting greenish yellow. Claude screamed in fury and let loose an arrow at Nemesis, the picture reminding him too much of that day in the Imperial throneroom.

Not counting him, Lysithea was the person most shaken up about Edelgard's death. Claude knew why, too; she and Edelgard felt like each other's lost siblings, or perhaps more like daughter and child, that's how El had acted towards her around him at least. And yet, she had insisted to join the next missions, as she was their most powerful offensive magic user, and not even Lorenz was about to deny that.

_She has to live._

"Marianne!", he shouted, already in the motion of firing another arrow, "take Lysithea away from here! Bring her to Linhardt, heal her, just make her survive!"

His voice got more desperate as he kept speaking, but right now, his emotions were getting the better of him, as they probably had with Lysithea as well.

_Another arrow. I have to be quicker, stronger, deadlier. This bastard will pay._

Byleth tried coordinating themselves with him as best they could, though he didn't make it easier by not following any of the patterns the two had trained together.

He heard quick steps behind him, probably Marianne carrying Lysithea away from the fight. That was good. He tried calming down a little, but it didn't do much.

The professor shot him a quick look, allowing a brief moment of not paying attention to their foe to pierce him with their usual empty gaze which Claude knew meant they were analyzing him to plan out the best course of action.

"Teach!"

At the very last moment, they dodged another attack from Nemesis, throwing a knife at him during the jump before smoothly rolling on their feet and lashing out with their relic again. Claude followed up with another arrow.

The ancient warrior easily blocked the throwing knife, but it allowed the true Sword of the Creator to bypass his defenses, just to bounce off of his skin again. However, Claude's arrow not only found its mark, but actually pierced the inhuman skin, the relic-powered projectile lighting up and making the King of Liberation grit his teeth as a shockwave went through his body.

Byleth was breathing heavily.

"I knew he could be hurt somehow", they said. "But he's still getting powered up by the other enemies. Claude, please take care of those, I will be holding him off."

Claude's eyes widened. "Teach, you cannot be serious."

"I am very much serious."

"You have been fighting him all this time! You're obviously hurt and exhausted! You're basically asking him to kill you!"

"Claude-"

"Aren't you supposed to be the one we can always rely on?! How will that work when you are dead?!"

**"Claude!"**

He jerked away slightly, suddenly hyper aware of how loud they had become. Byleth shook their head.

"You know this is the best course of action."

Claude grit his teeth. "I've always hated you being right in situations like these", he said after a pause. "Don't let this be the last time."

Byleth shot him a smile. "Go."

 _I'll have to do this fast_ , he thought to himself. _No one will die here today. Not if I have anything to say about it._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Claude came running back, Byleth was on their knees, Nemesis towering over them, sword held high in preparation to strike.

"Hilda!"

"Got it!"

In the next moment, Freikugel was flying through the air, the giant axe hitting the black replica of the professor's relic dead on and making Nemesis stumble slightly, but he quickly caught himself and dodged another one of Claude's arrows.

"You should have gone for the head", the otherwordly voice sounded over the battlefield as he prepared to strike again. This time, however, the professor themselves countered, shooting up with the last of their strength and ramming their weapon through Nemesis' throat.

The old king hacked in surprise, his free hand finding the tip of the weapon at the back of his neck.

"Fell Staaaaaaaaar..."

He was defeated, in the middle of his strike, his sword handing over Byleth like the blade of a guillotine.

And gravity set in.

The blade fell.

**"Teach!"**

Before he knew it, Claude had tackled them out of the way, and suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his right arm. He grit his teeth and didn't scream, focused on everyone surviving before anything else.

Then, it all went dark.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

He woke up Sothis knew how much later, and the first thing he noticed was that his arm still hurt like hell.

Claude stirred a bit, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a rainbow-colored array of faces hovering over him with concerned looks on their faces.

He coughed to get feeling back into his throat.

"Mornin'", he muttered. "How long...?"

"A few hours", a familiar flat voice stated. When he looked over, Byleth met his gaze, and he exhaled, relieved as he saw their wounds weren't much beyond the usual cuts and bruises.

However, their eyes had something akin to grief in them.

"Lysithea...?"

"Will survive. Marianne did all that she could, and we'll hopefully get her to Manuela soon, where she can be treated. It will take a while for her to fully heal though."

"Good. That's good."

He relaxed a bit, but something still felt off.

"Um, guys?" he asked his friends. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Immediately, they all looked away, except for Raphael, sweet, brave Raphael, who slowly opened his mouth.

"Claude, your right arm..."

Claude looked where his big finger pointed.

He found nothing.

His shoulder should have an arm attached to it, but instead, there was just a piece of blood-red cloth covering the stump that was left.

"Gods, please tell me this is a nightmare."

How could this get any worse?

\-----------------------------------------------------------

It got worse.

When they arrived at the monastery, right at the gate were Seteth and Flayn, waiting for them.

Between them stood Khalid.

Cyril approached Claude with a sheepish look on his face.

"Um... sorry?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, fight scenes
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you did, please leave a comment!


	7. Chapter 7

Claude took a deep breath.

Then another one, before putting on his most award-winning smile.

"Heya Seteth, fancy seeing you out here. Were you that eager to congratulate the returning heroes on saving the world?"

The man's eyes scanned the group, his gaze lingering on Claude's missing arm just a little bit longer than comfortable. To just about everyone's surprise, he descended the stairs and pulled the house leader along with Byleth into a tight hug, which made the young hero freeze up, clearly uncomfortable with the touch as much as he wanted to hide it. Just when he was about to ask why Seteth suddenly got all touchy-feely, the Archbishop's advisor whsipered:

"I have a lot of questions to the both of you, but that will have to wait for now. Rhea doesn't know yet."

On one hand, Rhea not being aware of Khalid's existence lifted a mountain's worth of weight from Claude's shoulders, but on the other, he was not looking forward to that conversation with Seteth in the least. For now all he could do was hope and pray to Byleth that it wouldn't end in a disaster.

With that, Seteth took a step back, keeping his hands on their shoulders like a proud father or something along those lines. The smile on his face was melancholic, but happy, and Flayn seemed happy seeing him like this.

"Thank you for finally ending this nightmare. All of you, my most sincere gratitude to you."

"Don't jinx it, next thing you know some enemy from another star will attack us." Claude forced himself to smile.

Seteth just looked at him for a moment, then turned around, gesturing for the returning warriors to follow him.

"As usual, the people who can use White Magic will help heal everyone. Byleth, Claude, you two will come report to Rhea with me. As for the others, let Manuela check your injuries and prepare for the debriefing."

With that, the groups split up, until only the three of them along with Flayn, Cyril, and Khalid remained. The latter looked nervous to no end, having been hidden away from the world from the very start of his life, being told over and over that nobody can know about his existence.

After a moment of awkward silence, Seteth sighed.

"We found him as Cyril was debating whether to put him in the closet where the cleaning tools are to hide him. I didn't get much out of him, but enough to know that the boy is connected to you, as is evident by... certain features."

Claude's heart sank. How much did they find out? Did they know about the Crest of Flames? About his mother?

Suddenly, Byleth cut in. "But Rhea does not know about him, correct?"

The green-haired man nodded. "And I intend to keep it that way for now. Rhea is barely in a condition to talk, so I'd prefer to let her rest as much as possible."

Everyone knew about the heavy wounds Rhea sustained after the battle in Shambala when she defended them from the Javelins of Light the Agarthan leader launched in a final desperation attack, and as morbid as it may sound, Claude thanked him for that in his mind.

"Flayn will take care of the young boy while we report to Rhea. Is that fine with you?"

As much as Claude wanted to scream no, he knew he didn't really have much of a choice as he looked to Khalid. Slowly, he knelt down and ruffled his son's hair.

"Is that okay with you, Kiddo? I'll be with you in a moment."

Despite being clearly scared and having not spoken a single word so far, the boy mumbled something under his breath that Claude couldn't quite make out. Luckily, Byleth came to the rescue.

"Lysithea suffered some heavy injuries. I'm sure you can stay with her while Flayn takes care of her wounds, does that sound okay?"

Khalid nodded first, then Seteth followed suit. "An acceptable compromise. Now come, we'll just attract attention standing around like this."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Claude and Byleth stood aside while Seteth knocked on the door to the Archbishop's private quarters. As usual, the latter probably looked just about the same to people who didn't know them very well, but Claude could feel their eyes scanning him, glaring into his very soul, with all of his insecurities hidden away inside.

As they were invited into the room, they gave him a quick pat on the back, making sure he knew they were there, which he was very thankful for.

Rhea looked old. The young heir hadn't seen her in person since the army came back from Shambala, so this sight was very unsettling to say the least. A weapon which could make a centuries old dragon look like an old woman about to take her last breath was nothing to scoff at.

"Let me see your face... Byleth..."

Even her voice sent a violent shiver through his body. The holy aura and commanding presence was no more; all that was left was a wartorn woman, broken and never rebuilt, looking tired of existing in this saddening state. Even Byleth twitched slightly before approaching the bed and kneeling, softly wrapping their hands around Rhea's.

"You have done well, my child. Now you shall rest easy; the threat is no more..."

Suddenly, a coughing fit attacked her. Seteth immediately rushed to her side, looking as concerned as Claude had ever seen him, just like when Flayn had been abducted.

So many months had passed since that day...

Slowly, Rhea calmed down, and stared at the ceiling, no power left in her body.

"All of your students have done well, too. Give them my gratitude."

Claude never felt very positively about Rhea, especially not after all those nights of talking to Edelgard. But right now, all he could do was stare at her, not with hatred, not with affection, just with pity. 

_If you could see me now, El... What would you think of me? What would you say to me?_

Slowly, he backed out of the room. If Seteth noticed, he didn't show it, while Byleth just gave him a slight nod. He responded in kind.

_I miss you..._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As he approached the room where Lysithea was getting treated, he encountered Flayn, who apparently just left. She offered him a melancholic smile and put a finger on her lips.

"...and then?" Khalid's voice came through the door.

Claude halted, letting go of the doorknob.

"That was the start of our friendship", Lysithea replied. "We often met for tea and discussed many different topics. We trained together, studied together..."

Her voice grew unsteady.

"...we shared sweets, talked of our sercrets, our past... We- we showed each other our scars..."

As the first sob came through the door, Claude felt something hot and wet rolling down his cheeks.

"It was- it was like I finally had a sister again."

He sunk onto the floor, back against the door, and buried his head in his elbow.

As Lysithea's heartwrenching sobs grew louder and Khalid started to join in, Claude, too, broke out into tears, muttering a single name over and over.

"El..."


End file.
